The End Of The Beginning
by venomistress
Summary: My take on the relationship between the twins before all the events of DMC 3. No pairings. Rated T for mild language. *Again, I do not follow the books, manga or anime. This is purely my own imagination at work.
1. The Beginning Of The Beginning

The young man stepped off the bus throwing a hand in front of his face to shield his eyes from the blinding glare of the sun. Realizing that his efforts were in vain, Dante lowered his hand shooting a contemptuous look at the blazing star before making his way to where the luggage was being unloaded and carelessly strewn on the sidewalk.

The elderly driver impatiently reached for a large duffel bag intending to fling it on the pile with the rest of the baggage, but grunted in frustration when it refused to move. The item was much heavier than he had initially thought.

Dante gently pushed the man aside and grabbed the strap of the bag. He slung it over his shoulder with ease. The driver watched with curious irritation. He considered asking the boy what was in the satchel, but years of experience warranted his silence. It's best not to pry into other people's business.

Dante gave the man a nod of approval and turned to survey the depot. His eyes stopped on a figure a few feet away. Only someone who knew the figure would be able to notice the impatience in the calm stance.

Flicking a lock of white hair out of his eye, Dante made is way through the crowd and stood before Vergil. The twins regarded each other in silence until Dante's wit got the better of him.

"What?" he asked snidely holding out his arms to his brother. "No hug?"

Vergil blinked at him impassively. "You wreak," he informed the other.

Dante scoffed. "Tell ya what, next time I'll let you have the honor of sitting on bus for five hours with no air conditioning."

"Public transpiration is an undue nuisance," Vergil commented. He gave his brother a sly grin. "Perhaps you should invest in a dependable automobile instead of that erratic contraption that somehow manages to qualify as a motorcycle."

Dante made an effort to try to hide his offense at the statement. "My bike runs just fine," he lied. "I just didn't have the money for gas."

"Stop squandering all of your earnings on frivolous indulgences and that wouldn't be an issue," Vergil suggested contemptuously.

Dante smirked at him. "And I thought I needed to eat every day," he remarked with sarcasm. "What was I thinkin'?"

Vergil ignored Dante's rant and walked with a steady gait toward the exit. He knew his brother had trouble keeping a job and that money was tight. But he also knew that Dante spent more than a fair allotment of his wages on unnecessary luxuries.

Dante resolutely followed his brother, occasionally casting a irritated glare at the blue clad man's back before lightly brushing passed Vergil so that he could take the lead. "So," he called back ignoring the sneer on his twin's face, "where're we going?"

Taking advantage of the momentary distraction, Vergil nimbly stepped ahead of Dante. "I assume you're hungry," he said.

Dante grinned. "Now that you mention it."

Vergil halted in front of a small diner. Dante looked at the establishment with disappointment. He considered suggesting something a bit more lively, but decided to keep silent. Vergil always choose the most inconspicuous locales despite Dante's persistent complaints. Besides, Dante knew that Vergil would be the one to pay the bill so he could really find little to complain about. The younger twin was wise enough to know the value of a free meal.

Dante pushed open the door of the cafe and a cool breeze whipped against his sweat stained clothes turning the perspiration to flecks of icy drops, thus making him shiver. Locating an empty booth in the back the shaggy haired youth approached it and dropped his bag to the floor with a loud clang. Dante nudged the object under the seat with his toe and sat down heavily. He leaned his back against the wall and stretched his legs across the free space of the bench letting his feet dangle in the aisle.

In contrast, Vergil easily lowered himself onto the seat opposite his brother. In doing so, he adjusted the unseen object that hung at his left side. The katana remained out of sight, hidden in the folds of his long blue jacket.

Dante pointed a finger at Vergil. "Someday you're gonna get busted for carrying a concealed weapon," he advised with a smile.

"Worry about yourself, Dante," Vergil replied darting his eyes to where his twin had his own blade hidden.

A young woman walked over to the table and greeted the boys in a voice thick with bored irritation.

Dante looked up at her and smiled. "What's wrong, babe?" he asked. "Rough day?"

Giving only a scornful look in response, the girl asked what they wanted to drink.

"Beer," Dante answered.

Still refusing to lighten her mood, the young lady huffed. "Then you might want to go some place else."

"Well, thanks for the advise," Dante said as he prepared to get up.

Vergil spoke his brother's name evenly. "Don't be obnoxious." He turned to face the girl. "Coke."

She scribbled quickly on her notepad, then giving Dante a cold glance, left them.

Dante watched her leave with a subdued expression. He looked at Vergil. "Obnoxious?" he repeated. "Do I embarrass you, bro?"

"Constantly," the other answered.

"Alright," Dante said with a triumphant grin. "I'll behave. But only because that lame hairstyle of yours is enough embarrassment for anyone."

Vergil eyed him. "When was the last time you washed your hair?" He squinted at Dante. "Is that blood?"

Combing his fingers through his unkempt locks, Dante nodded. "It was a rough night."

The jovial temper of both men lessened to something more somber. Their blue eyes met and Vergil asked, "How many?"

"Not enough," Dante replied.

The waitress returned setting a glass of coke in front of each of them. Her eyes scanned them both intently. "Brothers?"

"We're twins," Dante told her holding his hair back in a mocking imitation of Vergil's. He let it fall with a grin. "But I'm the good-looking one."

Vergil sighed in annoyance as the girl managed a half hearted smile at Dante. He remained silent while his brother ordered a pizza and chatted insignificantly with the young woman. Once she left, Vergil looked at Dante. "Do you even know her name?" he asked.

Dante stared blankly at his brother. "Who?"

"The girl you were just flirting with."

Dante scoffed. "I was just being nice."

Vergil smiled. Dante hated that smile. It was too secretive to be genuine. It was the same smile Vergil always got when he emerged victorious in any game or argument. Dante forced himself to ignore the smirk and changed the subject.

"So, what're we doin' tonight?"

"I think you already know the answer to that," Vergil returned.

Dante nodded. "Where?"

"Just outside the city," Vergil answered. His hand went down to grip the hilt of the sword that rested at his side.

Dante in turn checked the bag beneath his seat. "Well, I hope there's plenty of guests," he mused with a sadistic grin. "I'm planing on one hell of a party."

Vergil matched Dante's expression with one of his own morbid smiles. "What an interesting analogy."

"Who knows," Dante said leaning back, "maybe this time we'll hit the jackpot."


	2. How It Was

_AN: If you intend to review, please keep in mind that I am perfectly aware my ability to write fight scenes is appalling. Thank you. VM_

Dante held Rebellion over his head. A light breeze ruffled his hair as he swung the sword in a downward arch, slicing the Hell Pride before him from shoulder to hip. He grinned snidely as the demon dissolved into dust and turned his attention to another attacker. Out of the corner of his eye, Dante saw the azure clad form of his brother battling his own foe with detached grace. The older twin's face a discernible mask of unemotional thoughtfulness.

Releasing a wry chuckle, Dante used his free hand to motion for another volunteer to approach. "Come'on!" he taunted the nightmarish creatures.

Breaking from the group, a Hell Pride sauntered toward Dante. The dark skull like face poised in hatred. Dante charged forward meeting the creature and forcing him back. Four of it's companions came to the aid swiping ineffectively at the halfbreed with their mini scythes. Dante grinned and parried the blows. He circled Rebellion around cutting three of the Prides and five more closed in. With a powerful leap Dante back flipped over the heads of two of the attackers, batting their weapons away as before landing with a loud thud behind them. Stabbing and swinging his oversized sword with inhuman speed, the youth took out four of them with ease. The other three fell back a step and squealed in protest. The largest Pride in the middle ambled forward and swooped at Dante's head. He blocked with a smirk.

"Too slow," he related driving Rebellion at the demon's chest.

The Hell Pride parried with unseen strength and speed. Much to Dante's dismay, the counter knocked him back a foot and he had to flail his arms to keep his balance. Unfortunately, the successful attempt to stay on his feet left the half human defenseless. His foe saw this and took advantage, closing the distance with slow steps, scythe held high for a final blow.

Dante's mind quickly analyzed the situation and he held his sword up in a gesture of protection. Before the demon could strike, a blur of blue and the steel wave of vengeance sliced through it. Shock was clearly visible on the creature's face the second before it turned to dust.

Vergil slowly sheathed Yamato as Dante straitened and brushed off his coat, glaring at back of his brother's head.

"That one was mine," he told the elder twin with a disappointed note in his voice.

Vergil turned to Dante with subtle indifference. "Maybe you're the one who's too slow," Vergil chided with a faint sneer.

With a huff, the younger twin rested his weapon's hilt on his shoulder. "I was just getting warmed up."

The other man's sneer broadened. "We didn't have that much time," he said smugly. "Never underestimate your opponent, Dante. Strategy is your most valuable asset in a fight. If you are not careful, your lack of tactic will cost you your life."

Bored with the lecture, Dante twirled Rebellion overhead in visually pleasing display of talent. "Whatever, bro," he sighed. "At least I got style."

The two eyed each other with opposing expressions. Dante's a jeering grin and Vergil's a somber mask of nothingness.

"Your style is reckless," the later said in a harsh whisper.

Dante felt a wave of ire, but let it die as he surveyed the empty construction site with a disappointed countenance. The brothers had fought no less than twenty of the lowly Hell Prides in too short a time to even get to savor their victory fully. It was nothing. Nothing compared to what they wished to go up against. The Prides were the small hand. The baby straits in a game where it was all or nothing. A game where Dante wanted to get a royal flush and finally hit the jackpot.

"I was hoping for more action," he confessed aloud.

Vergil ran a slender hand through his hair, bushing back the lone lock that fell once again as soon as the action was completed. Dante knew that – although not in the same terms – his brother's thoughts were along the same lines as his own.

After a moment's silence, Vergil's head jerked up and he resumed his calm attitude. "We are going about this wrong," he told his twin. Without explanation he strode passed Dante with deliberate steps in the direction of town.

Dante hung back, one hand lightly caressing the medallion that hung on a silver chain about his neck. No one who knew Dante would have recognized the look on his face at that moment. It was a stark contrast to his usual cocky spirit. What paraded on his features at that moment was sadness. A sadness that only occurred when Dante allowed the walled-off memories of his horror filled past the freedom to roam freely. As rare as those occasions were, no one ever saw that side of the hybrid youth. Not even his own twin who shared the burden of said memories.

No matter the depths of his despondent disposition, Dante never allowed himself the release of a single tear. To cry would be to admit defeat. And Dante was not the type of person who could easily be defeated.

Rebuilding the mental barrier, Dante tossed his arms behind him, slapping at the tails of his red leather coat in solid determination. The material floated upward, disengaging from the youths legs as he turned on his heels and followed the footsteps of his brother with the same prideful gait.


	3. How It Is

_AN: Another short one. It's almost over._

Vergil sat in comfortable silence oblivious to the presence of Dante, who was idly rolling the metal cap from a beer bottle across his fingers with practiced ease. Dante watched his brother stare at the wall wondering what he was contemplating on so intently. He knew it would do no good to ask. The question would only receive a snarky comment that would inevitably lead to an argument.

Sighing in boredom, Dante tossed the cap up and caught it out of the air. Vergil remained a motionless sentinel as the younger twin studied him wondering how they could be so different. Both born of the same parents on the same day only minutes apart, yet an eternity separated their personalities. To look so much like someone yet be so opposite from them confounded Dante. It defied the laws of the universe.

Thinking thus, Dante flicked the metal cap he was holding at his brother. Only after the object had left his hand did Dante consider the possibility that it might actually hit Vergil. Dante knew the ramifications of such an occurrence would not be pleasant, but as the decision to throw the cap had already been made, he decided not to worry about the consequences unless he had to.

With deft precision Vergil raised his left arm catching the tin lid in his hand as it careened toward his ear. Holding it in his fist, he turned to Dante and gave him a slow conceited grin.

Dante huffed in annoyance at the smirk on his brother's face and raised his leg depositing a booted foot on the oak coffee table with a loud thump.

Vergil's smile disappeared and he narrowed his eyes. Dante grinned daring a confrontation. He knew Vergil hated it when someone disrespected his possessions. Vergil hated that almost as much as he hated someone disrespecting himself.

Dante waited for Vergil to respond. He mentally prepared himself for the verbal barrage that was sure to be close at hand. Though he didn't really enjoy arguing with his brother, a fight would at least ease his bored state and give him something to do besides just think.

To his utter disappointment, Vergil said nothing. He merely gave Dante a resigned look then turned back to staring at the wall, twirling the cap between his long fingers.

"Hey, Vergil," Dante called. The sound of his own voice surprising him with it's drastic shattering of the thick silence.

Vergil did not look at him, but spoke in a cool voice. "What?"

Dante opened his mouth but realized he had nothing to say. As per usual his vocal cords had worked faster than his brain. He struggled for a moment under the expectant eye of Vergil then purposelessly stated, "Wanna go somewhere?"

Vergil arched a brow and his face displayed his annoyance at having been disturbed from the fluid grace of this private thoughts for the sake of pointless conversation.

"No."

Dante sunk deeper into the Victorian loveseat as his twin resumed his former attempt at solidarity. Among the many things that irritated Dante, being ignored was – at the lowest – in the top three on his imaginary list.

"What kind of host are you?" he asked, not willing to abandon his efforts for parlay. "Your guest is bored out of his mind over here."

Vergil stopped twirling the cap and clinched it in his fist. His eyes closed as he spoke in an even tone. "If you would like to go out," he turned to look at Dante with a familiar ice-blue gaze, "then go."

Dante decided that now would be a prudent time to drop the subject and said nothing. He gazed around the apartment looking for something with which to occupy himself. The room was disappointingly devoid of anything interesting. There was no television. No radio. Not even any wall hangings or any other type of homey decor. The small space remained the same as it had the first time Dante had visited his brother over a year ago. The only difference was that the books stacked neatly on the shelf had multiplied to twice what they had been.

Vergil never changed.

Since the twins reunion after five years of separation Dante had noted the changes in Vergil with unfamiliar sadness. He had hoped that spending time together would help his brother revert back to what he had once been. Though the eldest son of Sparda had never had the same carefree attitude of the younger, Vergil had once been happy. They had played together, laughed together and gotten into trouble together.

But that was so long ago. They had been kids then. Now they were adults and things had changed. They could never have the same bond that they had once had because...

Because Vergil never changed.

Dante allowed nostalgia to wash over him and looked at his brother. His voice was so low it was almost a whisper as he asked the question. "How much do you remember?"

Vergil faced him and the solid indifference was replaced by an emotion far too deep to deny. The emotion, of course, was anger. With a quick movement Vergil was on his feet striding purposefully toward the door. Dante watched him with curiosity.

"Where're ya going?"

Pausing with his hand on the knob, Vergil answered in a tight voice. "We are going out."

Dante hesitated then rose from the couch to follow after Vergil who was not even showing enough courtesy to wait for his baby brother.


	4. How It Will Be

Vergil led Dante through the busy streets to a quiet part of town where traffic was almost nonexistent. Set back away from the gaggle of modern buildings was a large ancient structure that looked immensely out of place. The stone exterior was crumbling and the windows tinted with faded stained glass.

Dante frowned as he gazed at the library. "When you said we were going out..."

Vergil approached the door and held the handle. "I want to show you something, Dante."

Curious and a bit perplexed by the insistent tone that his brother's voice had acquired, Dante nodded. The nod remained unseen as Vergil did not look at the other but opened to door with a slow gesture and strolled through with sure steps. The length of the elder's blue coat billowed as he walked making the fabric rustle softly. Along with the solid thud of rubber soles on the marble tiles, there were no other sounds to be heard.

Dante followed adding his personal audio to the quietness of the building's interior. The clomp of his heavy boots and the rattle of the ornaments on his leather coat muffled his twin's progress.

The younger turned his head left and right, studying his surroundings with disappointment. Other than two or three patrons, the conservatory was utterly devoid of life. Mazes of time-worn, dusty shelves filled the large space and blocked the walls making the room look slightly menacing in it's own way. The air was stale and musky. Dante silently wondered what kinds of ventilation system a place like this had. If forced to guess, he would say that the air was the same that had been enclosed within the building on the day of it's completion who knows how many years ago. Not recycled, but still. Trapped and unmoving for centuries so as to personally displease Dante with it's dryness at this precise moment.

Vergil passed all the shelves and proceeded to descend a stairwell in the back of the library, his brother close behind him. If the upper rooms had not been to Dante's taste, the lower were just offensive. The air was even more sour and the ambiance was creepier. This part of the building was even older and less used than it's counterpart and it showed. The dark stones of the walls and floors were cracked , the shelves warped and looking barely able to support the weight of the old tomes housed on them.

Dante wrinkled his nose and kept going, wondering again why Vergil had brought him here. Before he could form the question, his brother stopped in front of one of the towers of books and gently extracted one large one. Without it's support, the two on either side leaned toward each other and rested together like long time friends. Dante was surprised the whole lot of them didn't fall and cave in the light wood of their foundation. But the shelf surprisingly remained intact.

Vergil skimmed through the book until he found what he was looking for. Turning, he gingerly handed it to Dante and winced as the other grabbed the object carelessly and read the pages. After a moment, Dante looked up and held the book out for his brother to take back.

Vergil accepted his disinterest with disappointment. "Didn't you read it?"

"Yeah."

"And what do you think?" Vergil questioned with interest.

Dante shrugged. He hadn't understood most of what the paragraphs had striven to explain, but the overall meaning was fairly clear. "It's just a bunch of gibberish about Hellgates," he told his brother.

Vergil assumed the smirk that so irritated the other man and spoke as if talking to a child. "Hellgates," he began, "are portals. Doorways that separate the demon world and the human world. Using the correct method, the doorway can be opened and any with strength would be able to pass between to two world."

Dante sighed and continued to hold the book out to his twin. He shook his head. "Humans can't enter the demon world, Vergil. You know that."

Vergil's grin widened. "You don't really believe that you are human, do you, Dante?"

Dante considered the question, but was unable to form a reply. He honestly wasn't sure what he was. He knew his mother had been human. But his father, Sparda, had been a demon. The Legendary Dark Knight that Dante knew next to nothing about had mated with a human woman after nearly two thousand years of expulsion from the demon world. Their offspring – he and Vergil – were unique. Never before or since had such a pairing occurred. It was confusing, and Dante preferred not to think about it.

"I look human," he told his twin.

Vergil frowned as he processed Dante's reply. Then his face again became a calm, calculating mask. "Appearances are deceiving. We are not human. Don't make the mistake of thinking otherwise."

Dante waved the statement off pushing the book at Vergil's chest. The other scowled and took back the tome, closing it with ease and replacing it to where it had once been.

"It really doesn't matter," Dante said. "Sparda sealed all the Hellgates ages ago."

"He did," Vergil admitted, looking back at Dante. "But what if we were able to undo one of the seals?"

Dante let his confusion show on his features. He wasn't comfortable with the way this conversation was going. It worried him to hear Vergil speaking in such a manner. "What are you getting' at, bro?" he asked. "You wanna open a portal to the demon world? Don't you know what that would do to our world?"

"Our world?" Vergil repeated with contempt. "This world is not ours, Dante. We don't belong here. You know that, even if you refuse to accept it."

Dante shook his head. He wouldn't let his mind consider any other possibility than the fact of his humanity. This place was where lived. Where had been born and grown up, made friends and enemies – sometimes at the same time – and where he wanted to die. Opening the passage to the underworld would destroy this one and Dante couldn't let that happen.

"What makes you think we belong there, Vergil?"

Vergil eyed him. It was clear he had no answer. Dante mused the situation, inwardly smiling at the victory of an ignorant Vergil. He continued his silent rejoicing until Vergil muttered the word that made his humor falter.

"Jackpot."

Dante's hand unconsciously went to his necklace. He could understand why Vergil would contemplate such a drastic maneuver to avenge the murder of their mother, but to actually do it was another matter entirely.

"As the sons of Sparda," Vergil spoke evenly, "we are the rightful heirs to the power that he left on the other side of the portal. That power would give us the strength to defeat an army."

Dante looked at his brother. It was like looking into a mirror. The saddened expression was novel countenance on Vergil and displayed the depths of his loss. His argument was valid, and the offer was tempting. But no matter how much Dante sympathized, the method was madness.

He slowly shook his head and attempted a wry smile. "Between the two of us," he said softly, "we can already take down an army."

Dante started to turn and leave the library, but a quiet huff stopped him. He looked back to see Vergil watching him with a cold glare.

"Foolishness," the other said. "I intend to find a way to break Sparda's spell. With or without your help. If you don't wish to help me, then I suggest you stay out of my way."

Dante stared at the man who was identical to him as if he didn't know who he was. At that moment he felt like he didn't. Vergil merely gave Dante a cold smile and brushed by him on his way out of the library.


	5. The Beginning Of The End

_AN: The end. Review if you so choose. _

Dante stomped up the steps of the library making no attempt to soften the booming resounds of his footfalls as he went. He silently dared anyone to call him down for the noise. No one did. The conservatory was empty now, the handful of guest that had been there when he and Vergil arrived having decided they had better things to with their time.

Dante, however, didn't notice this. Too intent was he on catching up with Vergil to register the silence or the lack of people. He was determined to find his brother. Determined to talk some sense into the man who shared his blood. Vergil was being absurd, talking and acting like an insane person. Dante remember once hearing that there was a fine line between intelligence and insanity. He had never really given the proverb much though, but now he found himself understanding it. Vergil was one of the most intelligent people Dante knew. Now he feared his brother was pushing the boundaries of that invisible line, bending it beyond repair. Bending it until it was sure to break from the strain.

The youth pushed open the door to the library relishing the slam it made as it was thrown back on it's hinges before swinging forward to shut so hard that the plexiglass vibrated. He saw the familiar white hair of his brother moving along the street with patient speed, the silvery highlights glinted under the unnatural light of the streetlamps, shimmering with the same hue as the quarter moon high above them.

Dante charged after Vergil feeling rage boil inside him.

"What the hell was that?" he called. The other stopped and faced his twin with mild inquisitiveness. "Were you threatening me?"

Vergil raised his head an inch, looking down his nose at Dante. That only served to fuel the younger twin's anger. In Dante's mind the two were equals, neither better than the other. For Vergil to think that he was superior to Dante was insulting. Insulting even more so because the only reason Vergil though his brother was inferior was because that brother had shown kindness.

"I don't make threats," Vergil stated coolly.

Dante scoffed. "Well that's one thing we got in common, bro," he said. "So I guess you'll take me seriously when I say I'm not gonna let you do this."

Vergil eyed him with a subtle glare and took two slow steps forward. The twins were a sword length apart and Dante noticed that the other man's hand had loosely closed around the hilt of Yamato.

"You think you can stop me?" Vergil gave a low chuckle. "Perhaps you're even more foolish than I thought."

"Look who's callin' who the fool," Dante retorted. He felt the weight of Rebellion on his back and was glad he had taken to time to grab the trusty keepsake before leaving the apartment. He didn't like the idea of having to dual his brother, but Vergil needed to see reason. Even if that meant Dante had to beat it into his head with the hilt of his sword. He grinned at the thought of besting his brother. He couldn't deny that Vergil was a skilled swordsman, but Dante was confident in his own fencing abilities. Besides, he had the better weapon. The slim katana Vergil favored couldn't possibly stand up to the strength of a broadsword.

Vergil watched Dante with a confident sneer that rivaled his brother's provoking smile. "There is nothing foolish about acquiring power, Dante. It's what the world strives for. What drives the weak human race to accomplish feats they were told were impossible. But even more than that, people need power. Not just their own, but that of those around them. Just look to society for an example. Where would humanity be without someone to guide them? Someone with enough power to be in control? They elect leaders who they believe are strong enough to give purpose to their pointless lives because they lack the strength to take control of their own destiny. You'll forgive me if I refuse to follow the example of a pitiful race that can't even think for themselves and seek to make my own fate instead."

Dante looked at him with remorse. "But there's gotta be another way, Vergil."

He shook his head. "There is not. I hope someday you will understand."

With a lightening speed Dante had never seen, Vergil drew Yamato and closed the distance between them with a strong rapid slash. The younger twin unsheathed his own sword and was barely able to block the attack in time. Their weapons clashed together. The metal sang a short note before force drove the blades apart.

Dante had fought alongside Vergil many times, but never against him. Until that moment he hadn't realized the intensity with which the other man battled. Vergil always showed the same subtle indifference in combat that he did in everything else. But being at the opposite side of Yamato, Dante was able to see the clear satisfaction in his twins eye. The younger allowed only a split second to muse the fact that his brother enjoyed fighting as much as he did before preparing his own attack.

Dante whipped Rebellion in a high sweep. The large blade glanced off the smaller one as Vergil parried. Yamato gracefully arched forward to knock Rebellion aside, making an opening in Dante's defense. Dante sidestepped and brought his sword up to block the high blow. Vergil responded by going for a low stab at his brother's stomach. Dante countered with Rebellion's hilt and retaliated in the same fashion. Vergil easily caught the strike with Yamato. The blades scraped together and the twins eyed each other through crossed swords before dancing apart. Each held their weapons in at the ready but neither made another move to attack. It was an impasse. But Dante knew Vergil well enough to know he wasn't going to give up that easily. He must have something in mind.

Dante waited as long as his patience would allow. "That the best you can do?" he taunted.

Vergil grinned but refused to be baited. Dante slowly nodded seeing that it was he who had to make the next move.

Planting his feet, the youngest son of Sparda drove himself at Vergil. The other didn't move. If he had been any other opponent, Dante would have won a solid victory. Vergil was no ordinary opponent. His strength and skill matched that of his brother's, but his cunning surpassed all of his other abilities by a dimension.

Vergil let Dante charge him. He waited patiently until he was sure the younger twin would be unable to avoid his advance then smiled coldly. Dante noted this and felt the sudden sting of betrayal as Vergil brought Yamato up, executing a horizontal slice aimed at his neck.

Dante felt the razor sharp blade lacerate his shoulder as he leaned back to protect the vital area of his throat. He lost his balance and went to one knee, driving Rebellion into the ground for support. He gazed up at Vergil. The older man was replacing his sword to it's scabbard and looking down at his twin with pity.

"When will you learn, Dante?" Vergil lectured.

He stepped back as Dante ambled to his feet, putting a hand to the wound that was already beginning to heal. The dark blood stained his clothes and blended with the red of his jacket. The young man peered at his gloved hand. His exposed fingers were wet with crimson liquid. He looked back at his brother with a hurt expression. This wasn't how he had expected things to go. He knew the fight had been real, but until the final blow, he had doubted the seriousness of it. Dante had not been trying to hurt Vergil, only trying to make him listen. Until now he had viewed their dual as nothing more than and armed quarrel. Each of them lashing out until one of them submitted. But never intending any real harm.

Vergil was obviously of a different opinion. The triumphant glint in his eye expressed his desire to conquer as he watched Dante's confusion. He shook his head in displeasure. "You are not yet ready to embrace your true nature."

Dante opened his mouth, but was unable to form any kind of response. For probably the first time in his life, Dante was speechless. He just watched Vergil walk away knowing he had lost the only family he had and gained a very dangerous enemy.


End file.
